Snapped
by CMW2
Summary: There's only so much rejection and hurt a person can take before giving up. Sara Sidle has finally reached that point and it will take a lot more than a plant or even duct tape to fix it. GSR, I promise but it's going to take a while. NOW COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Okay, I know that I seriously should not take on another chapter fic. Really, I shouldn't. I already have 5 in progress and I just **_**know**_** one of them's going to fall by the wayside and not get updated for like 2 years, which is totally a deadly FanFic sin, if you ask me… **

**But, as I've learned the hard way on here, what my muse wants, my muse gets and it wants GSR. Angsty, sad, and takes forever to happen GSR but still GSR. This is my first **_**CSI **_**fic and I'm excited to branch out again. **

**Now, I got this idea from Season 4 and 5 Sara. You guys know the one: angry, bitter, miserable, borderline suicidal… well, I've always wondered what would've happened if she had handled yet another rejection from Grissom (**_**Butterflied**_**) differently. I don't exactly know where I'm going with this story but I hope it sparks enough interest so that I can continue it.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

_**"It's sad, isn't it, doc? Guys like us. Couple of middle-aged men who've allowed their work to consume their lives. The only time we ever touch other people is when we're wearing our latex gloves. We wake up one day and realize that for fifty years we haven't really lived at all. But then, all of a sudden ... we get a second chance. Somebody young and beautiful shows up. Somebody ...we could care about. She offers us a new life with her ...but we have a big decision to make, right? Because we have to risk everything we've worked for in order to have her. I couldn't do it... but you did. You risked it all… and she showed you a wonderful life, didn't she? But then she took it away and gave it to somebody else...and you were lost. So you took her life. You killed them both, and now you have nothing."**_

_**//~*~//  
**_

She didn't know what to do, now. Each word had been like a kick to the gut. It hurt that he thought of himself like that, old and unwanted, even for a minute. What hurt worse was that he thought so lowly of her to automatically think she would do such a thing to him. She wasn't Debbie Marlin. She didn't take emotional matters lightly and she certainly wasn't cruel enough to drop someone out of boredom. It wasn't in her makeup. Sara Sidle didn't open up easily and she certainly didn't give her heart to just anyone…and he did have she liked it or not, Gil Grissom had her heart and always would.

"_I couldn't do it…"_

Couldn't, not _**wouldn't**_. So, he _**did**_ feel something for her. It wasn't one sided. Wonderful. If she could, she'd turn a cartwheel.

It sucked to know that an impossible dream was possible but hindered by fear.

When he put his head in his hands, she had to leave the area. If she didn't, she'd go to him and that was the last thing either one of them needed right now. Sara opened the door and nearly collided with Jim Brass, who looked shocked and then sad that she had been there for Grissom's little monologue.

"Sara…"

"Don't, Brass. Just...don't. I don't want to hear it. Well, it wasn't a complete bust. I now know that the man that I fell for, uprooted my entire life for, and sacrificed what little dignity I have left for feels something other than pseudo-friendship for me.", she replied with a sardonic smile.

"He's just scared. Lurie…", Brass started, trying to defend his friend yet comfort her at the same time.

She was in no mood for it.

"I would _**never**_ hurt him like this! Ever! I couldn't! You'd think he would've figured that out by now but…", she snapped in a cracking voice before looking away from him, embarrassed by her weakness.

Damn it, she was **_not_** going to cry! She had already cried enough tears over him! Besides, it wasn't going to change anything.

"I…I could talk to him for you."

Sara felt a trickle of annoyance reach the raging river of sadness she felt and she glared at Brass.

"And say what? Gil, you're being an idiot? Gil, that girl obviously loves you? Take your head out of your ass before you lose her for good? Like he'd listen. People from Catherine to the janitors have been beating on that bass drum since I showed up. Maybe it's just time to switch instruments."

"You're giving up?" he asked with horror.

"What other choice do I have?", she asked flatly, feeling more and more heat fill her.

The hurt was fading rapidly and it was being replaced by something deeper, harder...

"Fight for him! He needs you!" he insisted.

Now, she was just pissed. He needed her? Really? He had a fucking hilarious way of showing it! Blowing hot and cold, treating her like she was dirt, ignoring her until it was convenient for him…the list went on and on. Love or not, it wasn't worth it. It just wasn't. If she wanted to keep what little mental health she had, something had to give and it obviously wasn't going to be him. She'd probably regret her decision later but regret was a core part of her life now.

Sara was putting up the white flag.

"I am not going to fight for someone who doesn't want to be fought for! If he wants to be a damned coward and keep his precious career, then fine! I'm done!" she spat before walking away, ignoring his calls after her.

She didn't know where she was going but she certainly wasn't staying in this lab for another second. Hurrying past reception, she went out into the Las Vegas dawn. Grabbing her keys out of her pocket, she got into her car and burned rubber out of the parking lot, driving towards the freeway.

She didn't know where she was going, she didn't even care.

All she cared about was getting as far away from Gil Grissom as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Wow, you guys liked it! Epic win! I am now going to reinstate my "One Update a Day System" so that every fic will get proper attention. It'll probably really take off next week because I am behind in three…no,**_** four**_** of my classes. That's what I get for spraining my ankle without getting my work first. On the bright side, my being hurt has the same affect on my muse as being sick does. It makes it cooperate.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

She ended up at a roadside hotel near the Nevada/California border after finally running out of gas. She would leave it behind. After pushing it to a secluded section of brush, she had walked in and used what little money she had with her to rent a room for the night. The name she put on the sign in sheet had been fake, an alias that she had thought up out of the blue. Madeline had been her great grandmother's name and Thomas her father's. Since no one in Vegas knew much of anything about her family life, it would be a long time before they made the connection.

They would, of course. They were some of the best investigators in the country. Plus, she was considered family by them. A wave of sadness rushed through her as she thought of what their reactions would be. She had come to Vegas for Grissom but had gained a family instead of him. They would be hurt that she just up and left but they would understand later. She made sure of that by one thing.

In her rush to get to the Debbie Marlin scene, she had left out her journal, one of many. They dated back to her time in the foster system to 72 hours ago. Once they found the recent one, the others would be found as well and read. On the one hand, it horrified her. They would know it all: what her father did to her, what her mother did to him, the pain, the suffering, Grissom…

On the other hand, it was liberating. No more secrets, no more hiding. What had been kept under wraps by her and others would finally come out in all its ugly glory. If it was out, then it wouldn't torment her anymore.

She would actually be able to sleep at night.

Locking the door and drawing the blinds shut, Sara laid down on the bed, ignoring the revulsion. It was awful knowing exactly what she could be laying on but she needed to rest.

New lives required energy.

_**//////////////**_

"Okay, thanks."

They all looked at Brass beseechingly and he said, "I've sent Sara's plate number to some of my buddies in California. They said they'd keep an eye out for her. Did you guys find anything at her apartment?"

"I found her journal. Actually, a whole box of them. Maybe they could tell us where she went and why. Are you sure she left on her own, Brass?" Nick Stokes asked for the tenth time.

He could understand why. So many things had happened in their group recently that it was of utmost importance to make sure that no foul play was involved. If he were the man, he'd be asking it too. But, he had been there. He had watched her leave.

"I saw her. She…we talked." Brass finally admitted, dreading their reactions to what he was about to divulge.

"About what? Did she say where was going?" Warrick Brown asked.

"It was about the case. Debbie Marlin?"

"The nurse that looked like her.", Catherine Willows said to herself. "Damn it, I shouldn't have believed her when she said she was fine! Was she bothered by how much she looked like her?"

"No. It…Grissom had said something to Lurie and it had gotten to her. He said that the only reason they were different was because he had taken a chance with someone young and beautiful, even though it cost him his work and his heart. He…said that he couldn't do it."

Dead silence. Dead silence louder than gunshot as they correctly filled in the blanks, as their now anger filled faces told him.

"So, basically, Grissom mind fucked her yet again and she finally got sick of it. Awesome. We'll never see her again because of him." Greg Sanders said with enough acid to melt steel before walking out.

Nick left afterwords, cradling the box full of Sara's journals like they were an infant.

"I'm gonna calm Greg down and then I'll start checking traffic cameras, see if I can get a destination for her.", Warrick said with renewed determination.

Brass noticed how he squeezed Catherine's trembling hand before he left but said nothing. Now wasn't the time.

"We have to tell him."

"You heard Greg! If it wasn't for him, she'd still be here! She'd be with us, home and safe!" Catherine snapped tearfully.

"I know that and he's definitely going to get a piece of my mind but he still has to know. He's her supervisor. Besides, maybe this will be what he needs in order to get his head out of his goddamned ass.", Brass replied calmly but just as angrily.

Not only was he angry at Grissom, he was angry at himself. He should chased after her, made her stay.... Well, it didn't matter now. It was done. He'd make things right, though. He had to. Determined, he picked up his jacket and headed towards the door, intent on finding the other half to this whole fucked up situation.

"He doesn't deserve her.", Catherine declared just before he left the room.

He sighed deeply, feeling all of his years settle onto his back.

This was going to be one hell of a battle…

"Yeah. But he needs her. And like or not, she needs him too."

…but hopefully, when it was all over, things would change for the better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Good morning, everyone. I hope you guys are doling okay because I'm not. The pain in my ankle has spread to my left thigh and I have to go to the doctor. **

**Not only will I miss yet another day of school (I was out on Friday because of a colossal migraine) but now, I'm in danger of missing tomorrow when a huge AP English essay is due. I've already emailed my teacher and I hope I'll hear back from her soon. **

**Instead of dwelling on that, I'm going to use this extra time to update a little. My muse thrives on pain so I have plenty of ideas and plots ready to go. This chapter will begin to go into Sara's journals and of course, there will be a confrontation with Grissom. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

_**21 July 1984: **__Well, today was not a good day. I woke up not to the sound of birds but to dad hitting mom yet again over something petty. I think it's his newspaper or the way the kitchen looks or maybe he's PMSing. I don't know why. I stopped caring why a long time ago._

_He hit Phil again yesterday. He had missed curfew but I don't really blame him. If I had to go from the relative peace outside back to this House of Horrors, I'd hesitate too. Still, it had been terrible. There had been yelling and when Phil called him a drunk, abusive, failure of a human being (which he is), he snapped. He used the belt so his back looked like a checkers board afterwords. I did the best I could to help him disinfect it but all I could reach was the bleach. God, I hate being short. Phil wasn't mad at me, though. He even smiled at me, thanked me for trying._

_I wish I could do more…_

Nick abruptly slammed the leather book shut and put his head in his hands. He had been reading for hours, his eyes gritty and sore and his heart broken. He was five volumes in and it killed him to think about what she had gone through. Her entries weren't of slumber parties and sunshine. No, they were of a little girl who didn't understand why her dad was so mean, that wondered what she did to deserve beatings(a broken arm at six!), and dreamed of escape.

As he though back, he realized that Sara always avoided talking about her family. Every time anyone asked, they got an evasive answer or no answer at all. "I don't like talking about my past" was her frequent dodge. Now, he knew why.

Questions nagged at him, though. What happened afterwords? He was only on 15 year old Sara, what about the other 20 years? Where was her mom? Her brother? Her rat bastard father? Hell, where was _**she?**_

Warrick had gotten nothing from his search of cameras and Greg was at her apartment with Catherine, searching for anything that would give them a lead. It was best that they got out of the lab before Grissom showed up. They would definitely jump down his throat or more than likely, wring his neck for all he did to Sara. Although he was not entirely responsible for her inner misery, he didn't help matters by jerking her around.

Nick felt his own rage against the man build but he forcibly tamped it down. Now was not the time. He had to help find Sara.

Opening the journal again, he continued to read, hoping that he would be able to latch onto anything that could help them find her.

_**//////////////**_

"Madeline? It's time for dinner.", Becca said before running back out to her parents.

Sara sat up and exited the RV, joining the Andersons around a grill. The family of four had seen her walking and stopped. They were heading to San Francisco on vacation and had asked if she needed a ride. Giving her fake name and a grateful smile, she had accepted. The trip had been pleasant. Jack and Margaret had been high school sweethearts, falling head over heels from the moment they met. Now, they were the parents of twins, Rebecca and Robert, both ten and both happy.

They had a normal life with parents who loved and protected them. It was a forceful reminder what Sara never had.

Between bites of grilled zucchini(fortunately, Margaret was a vegetarian too), she looked towards the horizon. In the distance, she could see the lights of the city, comforting yet scaring her.

She had no idea what she was going to do once she got there but she had to figure it out fast.

The team was looking for her and so were the cops in 3 states. The news had been talking about her, even giving a description but fortunately, none of her companions had made the connection. That luck wouldn't last for long. One thing was for sure, the last thing she wanted was to go back to Vegas. Once Sara made a decision, it was made. She had decided never to set foot in Las Vegas ever again and nothing short of a miracle would convince her otherwise.

_**That's not true. All you need is for Gris-**_

_It's not going to happen. He doesn't love me. He doesn't even want me. All he cares about is his career and maybe his bugs. He's probably relieved that I'm gone, anyway…_

_**//////////////**_

Brass' words hit him with the force of a sledgehammer.

"She **heard** you, Gil! She heard everything you said to that bastard Lurie and now, she's gone! We can't find her!"

Ice filled him from his head to his toes and he sat heavily on his uncomfortable couch, staring at what seemed to be nothing. In his mind, he could see Sara looking at him sadly, reproachfully. She was sitting in the chair near his bedroom, wearing her usual black. She was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, looking broken, broken by him.

Her voice entered his head, worsening the dreadful guilt and anguish he felt.

**Let's go past the fact that you felt better confessing what you feel for me to a cold blooded killer than to me but the fact you thought so lowly of me, so sure that I would leave and trade you in…that hurt, Gilbert. That really fucking hurt.**

"Gil?" Brass questioned, worried about his friend's unblinking, stiff form. Was he in shock?

**All I wanted was to be with you and you wouldn't let me. I loved you and you just…well, I'm gone now. You can move on with your life. You can die a miserable, workaholic bastard. You're too late. **

Her image faded away into nothing, breaking through his shock. Oh, God…

His heart shattered in his chest and his stomach churned, prompting him to flee to the bathroom, violently ill. As soon as he could, he flushed the vomit to sewer and looked at himself in the mirror. A tired, broken man looked back at him and he knew that it was all his fault.

If he had only been braver, if he had only told her exactly how he felt. Missed opportunities filled his mind. They could've been together for years by now, happy and maybe even with a family. All the times he could have kissed her, held her, touched her…god, what had he done?! Anguished rage filled him and soon, he could feel blood oozing from his knuckles as the mirror shattered under his fist, the glass cutting deep.

Not as deeply as he had cut her…

Looking down, he watched as the blood ran rivers to the drain but he made no move to treat it. He deserved to hurt right now. He deserved to hurt for the rest of his miserable life.

"It's not too late, you know. You…you could help find her. Fight for her."

"It would do more harm than good, Jim. All I do is cause her pain for my own self preservation. I knew…I knew she loved me. I don't have the faintest idea why. She could do much better. She deserves better than an old, broken down, socially crippled asshole like me.", he replied sadly.

"She still loves you, Gil. I could tell when I talked to her."

"You talked to her?"

"Yeah…I may have been the straw that broke the ..."

"No! No, this is _**my**_ fault, not yours! Not anyone else's!" Grissom snapped.

"Then _**fix**_ it, goddamn it! ", Brass roared back. "For the love of God, Gil, quit being a damned idiot and get her back! Do you want her to be yet another regret in your fucking miserable life?! Huh, do you?!"

Turning to him fully, Grissom shook his head negatively.

"Then, get your ass cleaned up. I'll take you to the lab. Hurry up."

The bathroom door slammed and Grissom turned on the shower.

Brass was right.

Now wasn't the time for him to hide behind his career and the decade worth of excuses.

Now was the time to fight for what he wanted, what he needed.

He was going to get his Sara back and when he did, he would be sure never to let her go again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I am finally on my Holiday Break so from now to the first week of January, it is a time of updating. I have motivation to write more than ever because I have a project to get started. I came up with it on a whim and now I have thirty planned stories to get up on here by the end of 2010. **

**I think I can do it, especially now that I'm not sick and/or injured at the moment. My only annoyance right now is that FFN's email system is on the fritz (again) and I have to get my reviews and alerts the old fashioned way. They better fix it soon.**

**Anyway, back to the story. Now that Grissom knows what's going on, I can get the meaty underbelly of the plot. There will be a GSR confrontation later on and definitely some lovemaking. I can't write a fic without someone getting it on. I just can't. Believe me, I tried. But for now, let's get back to the angst.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"Thank you for everything."

"Madeline, are you sure you don't need a place to stay? It's no trouble if you do."

Sara smiled at Margaret and replied, "No, you guys have done enough. I…I'll be okay."

As the RV pulled away, she looked up at San Francisco General. Her brother was in there somewhere. She had gotten a letter from him shortly after she got to Vegas, offering updates and the opportunity for a visit.

"_It's just been too long, Sarabellum and I want to know who you are now. I just need to know if you managed to make it past our fucked up childhood and that you're happy."_

Well, she had achieved half of that. She was a Harvard graduate and a damned good CSI. Still, she wasn't happy. She hadn't been happy since the night before leaving for Vegas. Grissom's call had been like a jump on a dead car battery. She had become invigorated and excited, accepting his invitation immediately. She thought that she would be able to help.

Then after she helped, she thought that she'd be able to stay around as his partner, his lover…

It amazed her how naive she had been and apparently still was.

It had been almost 3 days. He had to know she was gone by now and for some reason, her mind kept giving her images of him frantic to find her, of him feeling guilty, him even crying because he had driven her away.

The odds of that was less than nil but the images were still there, tugging at her heart and conscience. What if it was like that? Should she call him? Go back to Vegas?

No. No, if (and if was a big if) he was feeling that way, then _he _would have to chase _her_ for once. Really chase her. No plants, no bullshit. If he wanted her, he'd have to fight for her.

Resolved, she entered the hospital, determined to find Phil.

Hopefully, he'd be willing to let her stay with him.

_**//////////////**_

_**6 May 2003:**__ I don't know what's wrong with me. I heard about Grissom and Lady Heather and ever since, I've felt like a ghost. Always cold, always on the outside. It's bad enough that he tells me that he "doesn't know what to do about this" but then, less than 2 weeks later, he fucks a dominatrix?_

_Story of my life: Every time there's a possibility of anything good happening, it gets squashed. I know it's my own fault. I shouldn't have been so blunt. I should have waited until the smoke cleared before asking him out. Hell, I didn't even ask him out! I just wanted to share a meal with him…_

_God, it sucks when I can't even lie in my journal. I wanted a date and all I got was bent over. Well, fine. If he wants to get the shit hit out of him to get off, then that's his prerogative. Hope the __**Lady**__ knows what she's getting into…_

Nick closed the 2nd to last journal, feeling like a voyeur. He knew everything that had happened to her and the conclusion he had came to earlier proved to be right. It wasn't all Grissom's fault. A girl who witnessed her father's death and her mom being hauled off had to end up miserable. A shudder of revulsion went through him as he remembered the accounts from her time in the system.

How had she survived? By all counts of logic, she should be dead…she **_could_** be dead.

It had been 72 hours and still no word from her. She hadn't been spotted by any the cops looking for her, suggesting stealth or possible abduction. Nick fervently hoped that it was the first one.

"_You son a bitch!"_

"_Greg, no!"_

Hurrying out into the hall, he saw Greg being held back by Catherine and Brass from pummeling Grissom. The man looked defeated and deflated but his eyes were steely with determination.

"Greg, I know that you're feeling…"

"No! No, you obviously don't know a damned thing about feeling! How else could you hurt her like that?! Huh?! How the fuck are you going to live with yourself if something's happened to her?! What if she's _**dead?!"**_ he demanded tearfully, voicing everyone's worst fear.

Grissom flinched at the very idea and Nick used that to intervene on his behalf.

"Greggo, it isn't all his fault. Okay, yeah, a big part of it _**is**_ his fault and he better be willing to fix it…"

"I am.", Grissom said bluntly.

"…Good…but what's going on with her goes way beyond Grissom. Her journals…it's not all his fault and beating the hell out of him won't bring her back. Only we can.", he told the young man firmly, trying to get through to him.

It worked.

"All right. All right, fine. I'll do it for her.", Greg said quietly before heading back to his lab, hoping to find a lead in her possessions.

"Someone fill me in.", Grissom ordered as he got a mug of coffee.

It would be the first of many.

All of them knew that Grissom was fully prepared to do anything to get her back.

It made them even more determined.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I am determined to update each one of my WIPs over the weekend. I'm making good progress on my SSS project and a new oneshot should be up by the end of next week so keep on the lookout. **

**Now, to meet Phil and his family and to lay the foundation for a GSR reunion. The confrontation and the lovemaking are being drafted and I can already tell that they're going to be a doozy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

_**14 January 2004: **__I don't want to go to work. I don't want to fake a smile in front of the guys. I don't want to deal with Catherine's concerned looks or pointed comments. I don't want to see death or pain._

_Most of all, I don't want to see Him. Grissom has closed himself tight and it kills me. Not only because he's shutting me out (I'm used to that now) but because he's shutting __**everyone**__ out. It's as if he feels that human contact and interaction will be like chopping his balls off or chugging Drain-O. He's wasting away and it's painful to watch._

_The others have noticed it but nobody has the guts to say anything outright._

_They're probably waiting for me to do it_

_. For some reason, they seem to think that I really matter to him, that he'll listen to me if I go to him. I know the truth now. As much as it hurts for me to say (well, write it) it, I'm thinking of just throwing in the towel. I've been waiting over a decade for him to make a move, to make a decision and nothing's panned out._

_It's sad. I really thought we were getting someplace, especially with the whole "Pin Me Down" thing It was the first time that we had really been in sync in ages. It was the first time he had touched me, even in a work related manner, in ages. It felt so damned good but it was too short. It's wasn't enough._

"_Tape Me Up" "Do You Want To Sleep With Me?", "Pin Me Down"…they're just moments. Moments of something more. Moments of what could be. Moments of what we could have if he'd just fucking leap. I used to be able to get by with them. I really could. Now, things are different._

_The job offer from the Feds woke me up. Even now, I don't know why I just didn't go. I don't __**have**__ to stay here. I really don't have any obligations. This is the age of email and overnight flights. I could easily stay in contact with the guys and Catherine and just...go. The idea sounds more appealing every time I end up doing the perimeter or I'm treated with kid gloves or when he when he tosses me a weak scrap._

_I deserve more than scraps. I deserve to be fucking __**happy**__…._

When he turned the page, there was nothing else but blank paper. She must have written it before the call to Debbie Marlin's home. His skimming caused a business card to fall out on the table. The script was formal yet straightforward.

It was the lead that they were looking for.

_**Dr. Phillip Sidle, M.D.**_

_**Head of Neurosurgery, San Francisco General.**_

She was in the San Francisco area. She went to find her brother. If her journals were any indication, he would definitely take her in and calm her down. Phillip would give him time to find her, to beg her forgiveness and finally offer his battered, bruised, and cold heart. Hopefully, she wouldn't stomp on it. He certainly expected her to. After all, it was only logical. What could a woman like her…?

_No. No, she wants me. Not some young stud. Me. She's wanted me for ages and I've fucked it up. Not anymore. Logic be damned._

It was his own twisted brand of logic that caused Grissom to push her away in the first place. After all, she was young, brilliant, and beautiful. She could have her pick of anyone. To choose him would be on a whim, a fling to see if "older guys can keep up". Once she figured out he couldn't, she'd leave him destroyed. If he didn't let her in, then the destruction would be prevented.

He didn't take into account that Sara was a different kind of woman. When she was made, they broke the mold. She was not the sort of woman to use and abuse, she was the sort to loyally love until the end. Now, she was fleeing from him, leaving him devastated anyway.

It was a modern day Greek tragedy. In his efforts to protect her, he had destroyed her and himself.

Well, now he was going to do his utmost to fix them and to fight for her.

Picking up his phone, he called Brass, telling him to look up Dr. Phillip Sidle and to call him back with the address.

After doing that, he sought to buy a plane ticket online.

Grissom was going to San Francisco.

_**//////////////**_

"Auntie Sara, why are you sad?"

She looked down into the big celery green eyes of her niece (she had a _**niece!**_) and smiled weakly.

"It's complicated, honey. Stuff that big people can't sort out without help." she replied gently.

God, Rebecca was the spitting image of her at 6. No. Not true. She needed a black eye and then she'd be the spitting image of her. But Sara could remember the innocence, the endless questions, the thumb sucking. She was sucking the knuckle, not the tip. The tips were "too gross" to her. It was bittersweet. Rebecca was what she should've been: happy, protected, and loved.

What made it sweet was that the cycle hadn't repeated and Rebecca wouldn't have to go through what she did.

"Is that why you came to see daddy at the hopsickle?"

She was too sweet to correct. She'd leave that to the educational system…

"Yeah. Your daddy always used to help me when I was sad and confused when we were kids. I…I was hoping he could help me now."

"He _can!_ Daddy can fix people's brains! If he can do that, he can do _anything!_" Rebecca replied with complete trust in her daddy.

"That's right, Becca Bear."

The little girl's eyes lit up and she ran off the porch to hug Phil around his knees. Her brother was a bear of a man, 6'5 and 230 pounds of pure muscle. He had inherited that from their father but unlike him, he was gentle, almost reverent with his wife and daughter. Rebecca squealed as he picked her up and hugged her tight.

"Where's mommy?"

"She's makin' lasagna with lots of vegetables. Daddy, what's a vegetabletarian again?"

"_Vegetarian_, sweetie and that means that a person doesn't eat meat. Your Auntie is a vegetarian."

"Like Uncle Max!"

Max was Kylie's brother. Kylie was Phil's wife, a solid and sweet African American woman with British roots. Becca got her accent, thick black curls, and lot of her optimism from her.

"Yep, just like Uncle Max. Why don't you go help mommy? I have to talk with your Auntie."

" 'Kay, daddy. Auntie Sara, will you play tea party with me, later?"

Sara smiled and nodded, resulting in Rebecca kissing her cheek before darting back inside. The simple show of affection nearly moved her to tears. Phil noticed and sat down, putting his whole right arm around her waist. Sara hid her face in his shirt like she did when they were kids, trying to hide from the world.

"C'mon, Sarabellum. Tell me what's making you so sad."

"Well, it all started when I went to this lecture in '95…"

She had given him the bare facts of her history with Grissom and all the feelings she had for him, both positive and negative. Phil listened attentively, letting her use his sleeve for a tissue at times.

"..And I would _**never**_ do that to him! I love him and I would never hurt him like that and the fact that he thinks I would hurts! It hurts so bad, Phil!" she choked out at the end, returning to her hiding place.

A light hand on her head made her look and see Kylie with a box of Kleenex.

"Sorry to interrupt. I just can't stand to hear someone crying and not do anything." she apologized sheepishly while brushing a dreadlock out of her eyes.

"I-it's okay. Thank you." Sara replied while wiping her eyes.

"For what it's worth, it sounds like he loves you too. He's just being a scared little bunny about it.", Kylie added with a touch of her usual whimsy before heading back to the kitchen.

Unbidden, the image of Grissom with big floppy ears and a cotton tail made her smile.

"I agree with Ky. In fact, it's the only thing keeping me from driving to Vegas and doing an emergency lobotomy on the fucker for causing you so much grief. Sara, you can stay here as long as you need to but this guy…he's brilliant when it comes to the CSI stuff. He'll find you and come after you."

"No, he won't. He doesn't care enough." Sara replied, refusing to believe them, refusing to get her hopes up again.

Phil made her look at him and she was looking at her own eyes.

"No, Sarabellum. He cares too much. That man loves you more than life and it scares the hell out of him. I know this because I used to be just like him and like you, Kylie had to leave me, she had to go all the way back to Britain before I could take my head out of my ass. Trust me sis, Grissom _**will **_come after you. The question is: what are you going to do when he catches you?"

She had no idea.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: It has been a long time since an update on this one. A lot has happened between then and now but now, things have calmed enough and my writer's block has lowered enough for me to return to this fic. I'm not too good at writing angst and there is still plenty of angst to be had between Sara and Grissom.**

**After all, just because he's taking action now doesn't mean that a big eraser has come down to make Sara forget about his past behavior towards her and the prospect of them. He's got to convince her that he's not in a hot and cold mood. He's playing for keeps. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

Phil knew that it was him as soon as he stepped out of the rented SUV.

Not only did he fit Sara's description to a t, he had a look of desperation in his eyes. As a physician, he saw it every day in estranged loved ones of his patients. It was a fear of being too late to make things right, that their loved one had moved on enough to block them completely out.

He also recognized it from the airport in London all those years ago.

Kylie had blown into his life as an interior decorator. He had just moved into his own space after his years in the system and college dorms. Due to that (and the fact that he was a straight man), he knew next to nothing about aesthetics or how a home was supposed to be laid out. He had expected K.E. Harrison to be a man, fresh out of NYC and looking for a big, strong man to"decorate".

Kylie Elizabeth Harrison was the complete opposite of his expectations. Not only was she a gorgeous woman, she was a brilliant one, a strong one, and one who's look on life could be compared to a child's. She always saw the good in people and had no problems expressing herself, even if her metaphors got her strange looks. She had intoxicated him immediately.

Like Dr. Grissom, though, he let fear and insecurity rule his actions instead of his heart.

Kylie had been patient at first but after 2 years of cat and mouse, he had gone to her apartment, only to find a note…

_**Phillip, by the time you find this note, I will back on the soils of my homeland. I apologize for my abrupt departure but it was needed. I love you deeply but I cannot do this anymore. I cannot be stuck in limbo while you dither about what could happen, about what pain I may cause you in the long run if we ever yielded to our connection and we **_**do**_** have one. Even when you deny it and push me away, **_**it's ****still there**_**, tangible and ready to be cultivated. Our life together would've been wonderful. We may have fought and yelled but the end of the day, I would've remained by your side as your life mate, your partner. Alas, your actions or rather, **_**lack**_** of actions has made it nearly impossible for it to happen. I'm sorry for giving into a cowardly cliché and leaving you a letter but I could not bring myself to face you .It's not only due to the hurt you have inflicted upon me but also because of the weakness of my own heart. If I saw you, I wouldn't have been able to leave because even after everything, I still love you. I…I always will. I will miss you deeply, Phillip. ~Ky**_

That day had shattered his heart and it had been a wake up call. Being with her and risking heartbreak was better than being miserable without her. So, acting with impulse for the first time in god knew how long, he had packed his bags and went after her, fighting for her with the same fervor he had fought for survival in the Sidle house.

It had taken a lot for Kylie to rebuild trust in him, a lot of screaming and crying, but he had done it.

Despite Sarabellum's anger towards him, Phillip was quite sure that she would eventually forgive the good doctor and that Grissom would finally love her in the way she deserved.

Standing up as the man approached the porch, he met him halfway of the path.

"Dr. Sidle, my name is Gil Grissom. I was wondering if…"

"Sara's here. She's inside with my daughter watching cartoons. The question is: why are _**you**_ here? My sister told me about her relationship or lack of one with you and I don't understand. Your behavior right now is contrary to any conclusion I've drawn about you being a cold, heartbreaking bastard."

The shame in the older man's eyes made him soften towards him just a little bit. Oh, he was still the man who had hurt his Sarabellum but he could commiserate. His dealings with Ky taught him just how destructive and counterproductive fear could be. He probably didn't realize what he had been doing until Sara had fled from him, leaving him behind with her angered friends and his broken heart.

"I _**am **_one, Dr…"

"Call me Phil.", he corrected. "And not completely. You're here, aren't you?"

"That may not be enough. Sara's a forgiving person but…after everything I've done to her…"

Phil's shields dropped completely and he placed a gentle hand on the defeated man's shoulder, making him look at him.

"She'll forgive you, Doc but you gotta cut out the bullshit. If I let you in my house, you have got to promise me that you'll be straight with her and not give up on her. No matter how pissed off she sounds, no matter how much she yells at you and says she hates you, which she will, you have got to give me your word that you won't walk out this door without her because if you do, not only will you not see her again, I will kill you for the hell you've rained down upon her for loving you. I'm a surgeon, I know how."

The fact that he didn't even pale at the threat gave him points in Phil's book. Sara needed a man with a backbone…

"I give you my word. Where's Sara?"

_**//////////////**_

He looked like absolute hell.

His eyes were ruby red from exhaustion and tears and his clothes were wrinkled, like he had been in them for days. What made her pause were the naked emotions in his gaze: regret, relief, love…

"Sara….Sara, I…I've been so worried about you."

"For once." she added on with bitter hurt.

"I've always worried about you, Sara. I've always cared about you."

"You have a twisted way of showing it, Grissom. Why are you here? Are you here to give me another plant? Or to tell me that _**the lab**_ needs me? I left Vegas for a reason."

"Because you heard what I said to Vincent Lurie. Because you finally got sick of me being a cowardly idiot ass and decided to cut your losses. I don't blame you for that." he surmised calmly, confusing her greatly.

Why wasn't he yelling at her or being his usual passive-aggressive self? Why wasn't he scolding her for running away and for causing upheaval in the team? Why was he being so…open? Grissom was like Fort Knox and Alcatraz combined. He never opened up to anyone without it being utterly necessary. Sara had spent years on trying to be deemed necessary, to scale his impenetrable walls and to be able to stay.

Had she done it already?

"You shouldn't. You've treated me like the gum under your shoes for so long. What's different, now?"

His answer caused a little sprig of a hope to spring up against her will.

"Because I finally know what to do about this.", he said with the blunt truth weighing down each syllable.

_**I'm fighting for you, woman. Get used to it and don't expect me to go away anytime soon.**_

Instead of replying, she merely stood up from her chair and headed towards the stairs, mindful of his gaze on her back.

"There's another guest room right at the top of the stairs. You can settle in there. Dinner's at five." she said without turning to face him.

She didn't know what she'd do if she did.

"Will I see you?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah. After all, I was here first."

And with that, she ascended the stairs and quickly shut herself in her own guest room, leaning heavily against the door.

Sara hadn't felt this conflicted in years. On the one hand, she wanted to tell to go to hell, to take his "epiphany" and go back to Vegas to his beloved career and bugs. But, her heart…her heart was urging her to listen, to stop running, to let him explain. Surely, he had an explanation for his behavior. Wouldn't it be worth the trouble to hear it? Not to mention that Phil had been right.

He _**had**_ come after her.

He had read her journals and still came after her, not repulsed by her background as she always feared he would be.

What did that mean? Could Phil be right about his feelings for her?

Did Grissom actually love her as much as she (still) loved him?

Right now, she wasn't sure which answer she wanted.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Hi, guys. I am coming precariously close to my scheduled hiatus (see HEADS UP, YOU GUYS on my profile) so I'm trying to step up the game and get some stuff done before I'm swept up in the latest storm RL's blown into my life. I am targeting my NCIS WIP for completion by the end of my Spring Break and to update all of my WIPs (all **_**9**_** of them) at least once. **

**I'll make it happen.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"Could you go get Sara, please? Tell her that dinner will be ready in about 5 minutes…if this bloody oven will cooperate. I once called it an antiquated piece of trash and it's never forgiven me."

Smiling slightly at Kylie's grumbling, Grissom left the kitchen in search of her. Since arriving at Dr. Sidle's, he had bathed and even managed to get a little bit of sleep. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel as if every one of his years weighed down on him. It was a good sign. A better sign was that Sara hadn't told him to leave yet.

She had even brought his hastily packed bag to him. She had refused to look at him or talk to him but she had approached him. She had even let him squeeze her free hand. Unconsciously, she had squeezed back before stiffening. Withdrawing her hand, she had hurried out of his room, nearly knocking over her niece.

Said niece had taken to him immediately and Grissom had let her take him on a tour of the house. Rebecca was vibrant and cheerful but there was the same sharp intelligence that her aunt had. It must run in the family.

Knocking lightly on her closed door, he called, "Sara, Kylie said that dinner will be ready in about five minutes. Sara?"

No answer.

After waiting another 10 seconds, he gently pulled the door open and his mouth went bone dry.

She was sprawled across the bed asleep. Her hair was shrouding her face but other than a pair of dark purple panties, she was nude. The late afternoon sun made her glow like marble and he could see every lithe muscle in her body shift as she buried her face deeper in her pillow.

Grissom didn't know whether to slam the door or to move forward, to shake her awake…to touch her.

His feet propelled him forward and before he could think (or over think), his hand was on her back. She was warm and silky soft, a light scent of gardenias and musk tantalizing his senses.

"Sara?"

"Mmph?"

"Dinner's ready. Kylie sent me to come get you. You didn't answer so I came in and found you like this. I just…you're beautiful, Sara."

"I think there's something wrong with your eyes. Give me my bra and robe." she retorted as she rose up on her forearms.

Her hair shrouded her from view and he was grateful for it. Not that he didn't want to see her breasts. Lord knew that he had wanted to see them and the rest of her glorious body for years. Now was not the time, though. They still had bridges to mend and he was determined to make her wait worth it.

It was the least he could do.

Picking up the purple cotton bra and black robe, he turned around as she covered herself up. When she said it was okay, he turned around to meet her gaze. Even in the arms of sleep, she still managed to look angrily suspicious of him, like he was a suspect in a crime but she wasn't sure just how big of a role he had played.

"I don't know what you said to Phil to get you in this house but I'm not buying it for a second. This isn't you, Grissom. The Grissom that I know wouldn't have chased after me. Something's wrong with you and I'm going to figure out what it is."

"There's nothing wrong with me, Sara. I'm perfectly healthy."

"You said that when you were losing your hearing….don't look so shocked. I had a friend at Harvard who went through what you did, I know the signs and you had all of them. I was hoping you'd say something. That you'd actually let me or the rest of us help but you didn't. You didn't say anything, proving yet again that you're incapable of trusting or loving anyone.", she said icily.

"That's not true. I love you.", he replied.

She scoffed and said, "Yeah, sure, whatever. Tell me another bedtime story."

"It's true, Sara." he insisted. "I love you. I love you and I'm going to prove it."

It was surprisingly easy to express how he felt to her. He had built it up into a big, insurmountable challenge but saying the words had only increased the lightness he felt. It felt as if a 40 pound weight had been taken off of him.

Her gaze softened for a split second before being replaced by cool indifference but it was a victory. He was getting through to her.

Sara was starting to take him seriously.

_**//////////////**_

She was hiding behind sarcasm and indifference.

She had to. If she believed him for a second, she'd break. She'd go right back to him and open herself up to be hurt by him again. Sara didn't want to feel that hurt again. He said that he loved her but did he really? Did he really love her or was this just a ploy to regain control over her?

Either way, she wasn't biting.

She concentrated mainly on eating her pasta primavera and talking with Kylie about interior decorating. She had always enjoyed designing rooms in her head but Kylie did it for a living. She admired her for turning something she loved into a career.

"Sarabellum, can I talk to you in the kitchen for a moment?"

Phil stood and walked into the kitchen before she could reply, forcing her to have to follow him. It was trick that their mother used to do. Scooting her chair back and ignoring the sky blue gaze on her, she went through the swinging door.

"What, Phil?"

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

He gave her a scathing look and asked, "How the hell do you expect him to make things right between you if you won't even acknowledge him? Sara, the man drove all the way out here to come get you. The least you could do is hear him out."

"I did! He's lying! He's just trying to get me to come back to the lab so he won't have to hire anyone else!", she snapped.

"You and I both know that that's bullshit, Sara! You won't listen to him because you're scared!"

"You damn right I am! Every time he does something like this, he changes for maybe a day before casting me aside like trash for his job or some other tramp that catches his eye! I told you about it all! Tell me, why should I believe him when he says that he loves me?! If he did, then he wouldn't put me through hell for almost a decade!"

She hated the way her voice was cracking but she wasn't going to let Grissom undermine her again.

She couldn't. She couldn't take the pain, anymore.

"Because you love him and we always have faith and trust in the ones we love. Sara, just…try. Throw him a bone. Give him sort of indication that it's not too late to make things right. Otherwise, he really **_will_** give up on you and **_then_** where will you be?"

Miserable as usual.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Hello, all. Today is a day of updating. I thank you all for your positive responses and I'm glad to be able to write more regularly. Summer vacation rocks! Going off of the last chapter, I'm going to start the beginnings of a resolution between our heroes and once that's accomplished, I can focus on lighter things between them.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"May I sit with you?"

She didn't reply verbally but she scooted over so he could join her on the porch swing. It was a good sign, Grissom decided. Sara had her knees drawn up but instead of black, she had on an ankle length white dress and her hair was down in its natural curls. It was longer than he remembered and had a couple sprigs of Lily of the Valley in it. She must have gotten them from the garden.

"I called the team. They know you're here." he informed her gently.

"Good. I didn't want them to worry about me too much. Leaving so suddenly was a bad thing to do."

'They understand why. I…I made you leave."

"You didn't do anything." Sara protested.

'That's the problem, isn't it? I _**don't**_ do anything, even though I really should." Grissom injected bitterly.

That made her look at him with penetrating chocolate eyes.

"You really want to do this now?" she asked flatly.

"Why not? I've screwed around with this long enough, don't you think?"

"I don't think, I know but the fact that you actually came after me says something. It says that you really do care about me. You just have a backward way of showing it."

"I'm not too good at things like this. You deserve…perfection."

She stood up and glared at him hatefully.

"I'm not _**asking**_ for perfection, Grissom! I just want you to fucking _**try!**_ I want you to take a chance for once! I'm sick of being in limbo and I'm sick of you being a coward! I'm a woman, not a monster! I'm not going to kill you!"

"I never thought you would!"

"No, you just thought that I'd use you like a piece of Kleenex and toss you aside for some younger guy!" she replied icily. "Don't sit here and tell me otherwise! I heard you when you were talking to Lurie! That whole case, all you saw is your worst case scenario with us! Well, I'm not Debbie fucking Marlin and that is _**not**_ how I deal with men! The fact that you think so lowly of me and yourself, for that matter, pisses me off! If wanted to be with someone else, then I would've by now!"

"You mean like Hank?" Grissom spat.

"Hank happened because you have no balls and don't sit there and tell me that you've been living like a monk all this time! Two words for you: _**Lady Heather**_."

"I never slept with Heather! I _**couldn't!**_"

"Why? Because you were strapped to the ceiling?", she demanded tearfully.

"Because she wasn't you!"

She reeled back as if he had struck her and he stood up and clasped her arms.

"Look at me. Look at me!"

Her eyes came up and he hissed, "She wasn't you."

The rage in her eyes melted into despair and the tears fell silently.

"You could've _**had**_ me. Do you have any idea what it's like to look in the mirror and ask why you're not good enough? To try to see something, anything so wrong that the person you love would rather go and _**pay**_ for intimacy than consider you? Well, I do and I fucking hate you for it."

He sighed deeply and loosened his grip on her arms so she could step away from him and look towards the mid afternoon sun.

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are but it's going to take a lot more than an apology to get me to believe you. I want to but…"

"What I've done before has made it damned near impossible for you to take anything I say at face value. I understand. I can wait."

"Can you?"

"Sara, you've waited almost 10 years for me. I can at least do this."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Okay, I'm going to try this again. I want to write something all of my WIPs at least once from now to midnight tomorrow and since I can't sleep (yet again), it's a good time to start.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

The team was going out on the town.

They did it every couple of weeks but what was different was that Sara was coming too, a first in God knew how long. She had begged off after the Explosion, citing paperwork or that she was reading or cleaning, all were true but used as an excuse too. After everything with Lady Heather, she had shut down and become the sad, bitter person that they had grown used to, that _**she**_ had grown used to being. But, now things were different.

She was in regular contact with her brother and there was a picture of her niece in her wallet, front and center.

She blasted and belted out rock with Greg in the lab and on the road.

She tossed a football around with Nick, perfecting her spiral and tackling him into the mud.

She hung around the piano store with Warrick, learning the basics of the instrument.

She went to the shooting range with Brass, blasting holes through Bozo or Chuck Norris with a grin.

She had gotten her nails done with Catherine and let her slowly but surely upgrade her wardrobe to something more fun and feminine.

And she had coffee with Grissom at the beginning of each shift. Sometimes they talked but most of the time, the silence was comforting and spoke of progress. She even let him hold her hand.

Sara was slowly but surely chipping away at her new cocoon, reopening up to her friends and family. Her impulsive flight had restored much of the fight in her and made her realize just how much she had shut people out, how alone she was.

She didn't want to be alone anymore.

"Hey.", Grissom greeted as he came into the locker room.

She smiled at him and continued brushing out her hair, detangling it. She had kept the length and had put away the straightening comb. Now, it was curly and free. Well, not now. She pulled it back into a bun and put a large clip in it with a fake sunflower on it.

The purple tank top she had on hugged her like a second skin and she actually had a skirt on. It was a black Gypsy skirt but still…a skirt! She slid her feet into her airwalks and turned around to face him as she pulled on her light green cardigan.

His gaze was hard and appreciative.

"You look beautiful. You'll knock them dead." he said shyly.

He really _**was**_ trying…

"Nah, I'll leave that to Catherine. _**I'm **_going to dance…and hustle Greg out of his paycheck at the pool tables. You could watch if you want." she offered.

"I can't. Ecklie's on my ass about evals and Catherine said that if I left them for her again, she'd burn my house down… with me in it."

"That sounds like her. Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

He nodded and looked back into his locker as she retreated.

Sara smiled as she felt his gaze on her behind and she put a little extra sway in for him.

This had been a great idea.

_**/**_

It had been an awesome time.

Not only had she gotten to hustle Greg but she had cleaned out some of Brass' boys too. She had been absolutely ruthless and instead of getting pissed, they had given her numbers. Of course, she wouldn't call any of them but still…

The music had been 80s, 90s retro and she had been on the floor until 1AM when they called it a night. Sara had come home happy, not broken down nor weary.

Now, she was showered and curled up on her couch, her journal in her hand…

…_**more progress. He actually**_ _**noticed how I looked. He said that I looked beautiful! **_

_**It's funny. Other men have said that I was beautiful but none of them have ever made me see that they meant it like him. I'm trying not to get my hopes up but I can't help it. Grissom's really making an effort to figure out what "this" is and everyone can see it.**_

_**I got teased by Greg. You know, the K-I-S-S-I-N-G chant from elementary school (well, the F-U-C-K-I-N-G chant from 5**__**th**__** grade up)? Yeah, he went there. I guess he wouldn't be Greggo if he didn't bust left sometimes but it hadn't been nearly as hilarious as the others obviously found it…**_

_**Okay, yeah, it was. I damn near snorted the single beer I had out of my nose. Gotta love the little weirdo…**_

_**Anyway, I think it's time that I try to add some physical into the equation. I want him. And I know he wants me. The way he looked at me tonight proves that. But, I don't want to scare him off. This isn't some guy that I could just come up and kiss, it's Grissom…**_**Grissom!**_** The fact that he's bold enough to hold my hand in the Lab is the equivalent of him taking me on top of the Stratosphere…mmm…what was I writing about again?**_

_**Oh, yeah. Grissom. Physical stuff. Physical stuff that we should've been doing years ago…how am I going to do this?**_

_**Maybe the just come up and kiss him idea isn't such a bad one after all…**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Damn, I fail. I epically fail. A lot of this epic failure centers around the demise of my beloved writing computer (Bruce) but I've recently learned that he has pulled through and once my parents get their tax refund in February, I'll have him back in my life. The living room computer (that I know the password for) is broken (its IP address has been lost in oblivion thanks to a petty dispute between my siblings) so the only viable computer (with Word on it) is the one in my parents' room which is off and encoded 90% of the time. For some reason lately, my dad's been leaving it on so I'll take advantage while the getting's good.**

**My SSS Project for 2011 will be starting on New Year's Day (hopefully) so I want to put all my 2010 stuff back into circulation so this sort of neglect won't happen as often. So, back to the story. Last update, I laid the foundation for GSR to lose their not-coupledom and I shall take that and run with it. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

As reflected by her previous journal entry, Sara had figured that she would be the one to take things to the next level. That she would be the one to initiate the kissing, the touching, the slamming-into-a-wall-and-not letting-go–unless-there-was- a -fire–in-the–room-ing…

Yet, looking at the man sprawled in the wreckage of her bed, feeling the way he held her so tenderly in his deep (snoring) slumber made her smile.

Gil Grissom never ceased to surprise her…

_**/~*~/**_

_It had been a typical day of catch up in the lab. No active cases, no mayhem, just paperwork and Thai food in the break room. When Sara had woken up after her Pilates/Yoga thing with Catherine (another new but fun thing), she had deemed it to be just another day._

_She showered, brushed her teeth, and put a couple of slices of whole wheat bread into her fixed toaster. A text message from Greg told her to bring plenty of white out and chopsticks so she factored sitting on the floor into her outfit choice of the evening._

_Caring about her appearance (other than the basics) wasn't nearly as daunting as Sara had made it out to be. With patient guidance from Catherine and a 12 hour marathon of "__**What Not to Wear"**__, Sara had found a happy medium between girly and her personality. As her toast finished, Sara put on a dark blue blouse and a pair of beige khaki slacks, guaranteed to "emphasize the positive", as Stacy London put it._

_In the King's English, they made her ass and legs look good._

_She slid into her loafers (there were just some things that couldn't be changed) and smeared some nutella on her toast. Her phone rang and she answered between bites._

"_Sidle."_

"_Hey.", a less shy voice greeted._

"_Hi, Gris. What's going on?"_

"_Nothing out of the ordinary. I just wanted to talk to you."_

"_Well, that's sweet. Yeah, so Greg's getting Thai food for tonight. Want me to save you some spring rolls?"_

"_Actually, I'll be with you guys. I'm still buried in an avalanche of forms and I figure that companionship will make the torture more bearable. Besides, watching Nick fail miserably at using chopsticks never gets old."_

_Sara's laughter echoed down the hall as she headed out…_

_**/~*~/**_

Still amazed that she could, Sara gently ran her nails over the constellation of freckles on his shoulder and into his thick graying hair. A feline noise of contentment left his chest as she scooted closer and two slivers of sky blue warmed her better than the sun through the blinds.

"Hi.", she greeted softly.

His lips curved into a smile and pressed possessively against her clavicle and her brow.

"Hi.", he rasped. "What time is it?"

"A little past 8. The garbage truck woke me up."

"I hope you don't mean my snoring."

"I don't mind your snoring. Chainsaws have always been soothing to me.", she quipped.

A pinch on her hip made her squeak and poke him in the side, prompting a playful wrestling match/tickle fight for the top.

His triumphant grin as he pinned her down made a different sort of warmth blossom between her legs.

_**/~*~/**_

"_Nick, maybe you should…" Greg started._

"_I'm not using a fork. I'm a CSI. I can figure out how to use some frickin' chopsticks." the Texan cut off with a defiant stab to his chicken._

"_Actually, I was going to suggest using your feet but hey, forks rock…"_

_Sara shook her head with amusement and added another cluster of sheets to her done pile. The team had been working diligently at first but as they got closer to being finished (or half finished in Grissom's case), they started relaxing. There was been banter, innuendo, and laughter. A lot of it, especially when Grissom calmly answered Ecklie's demand for an explanation of their gathering…_

"_**We're having an orgy, Conrad. If you would just remove your socks, I'm sure we could find room for you."**_

_Greg and Nick snorted soda out of their noses, Catherine's jaw dropped to her chest, and Warrick shook with silent, hysterical laughter as the weasel bid a hasty retreat._

_Sara just looked at him incredulously and he shrugged in his Grissom-ish way before putting more sprouts into his bowl._

"_A modern definition of an orgy is a group of 3 or more individuals in close proximity with no socks on."_

_Since she, Catherine, and Greg were barefoot…_

"_Cite your source!" she laughed with a fond smirk._

"_Urban Dictionary. Pass the soup."_

_**/~*~/**_

His lips were hot and demanding, making her feel like she was drowning sweetly. She had broken out of his grip and wrapped her arms around him, urging him closer. Her legs spread of their own accord and Grissom settled between them, his morning wood pulsing against her stomach. She shivered as she remembered the pleasure he had given her with it, his hands, his lips, his tongue…

A happy purr left her as he slid home and his eyes sparkled like sapphire.

"So pretty…"

_**/~*~/**_

"_You didn't have to walk me up. I'm perfectly capable of…"_

"_I wanted to."_

_Sara blinked and then shrugged, going with it. Her car had decided that today would be a nice day to take a nap so she had bummed a ride off of Grissom. Actually, he had practically ordered her to get in the car. Ignoring the significant look that Catherine had given her (and Greg's faux whisper of "About damn time!"), she had climbed in the passenger seat and buckled up like it was a regular occurrence._

_**If you're lucky, it **_**could**_** be…**__, her brain oh so helpfully suggested._

_Now, he was walking her to the door like they had been on a date and they kinda had been. Sure, they had been doing paperwork with everyone but he had talked to her, really talked to her and she had talked too. There were moments of over-talking but nothing that a joke from one of the guys or noodles couldn't fix._

_As they climbed the stairs, she couldn't help but look at his profile. He had lost some weight and spent some time outside because there was a light tan on his skin. An open white dress shirt revealed a t-shirt and he had on jeans. Black jeans that could pass for dress pants but still…jeans!_

"_Thanks, Gris." she said as she got out her keys, which she promptly dropped._

"_Damn it!" she hissed._

_After picking them up, she turned to bid him good night and found herself pressed against the door. His eyes were almost black and she gulped quietly, watching as a slow, predatory smile curved his lips._

_**I'm going to kiss you. I'm going to kiss you and you're going to like it.**_

"_Okay.", she whispered before he captured her mouth. It was everything she imagined it would be and more. Intense, frightening, loving, liberating…_

_They broke for air and she cupped his face, sliding shaking fingers into his hair. His lips brushed against hers over and over again, tasting and learning._

"_Invite me in, Sara."_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Will you stay with me?" she asked rawly._

"_God, yes."_

_**/~*~/**_

Even though they had only made love twice, they knew each other as if they been together for years. In a way, they had been. Despite all the fear and the frustration, Sara knew that their relationship started the day she shook his hand in San Francisco.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Alas, the end. I'm so very sorry it took so long to get to this point but I've enjoyed writing **_**Snapped**_** immensely and I think there's potential for a sequel for this down the line. Anyway, thank you for reading, writing, and just enjoying this little scribble on the wall and I look forward to writing more for this fandom and GSR.**

**~*CMW2*~**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"Hey. Come on in."

Brass hugged her and ushered Catherine into the townhouse. All the windows were open to let the last of the paint dry and Sara was unconsciously dancing to the playlist on her iPod. It sounded like Lionel Richie but he wasn't sure.

"Where's the bug man?" he asked.

"He's in the shower. I dumped a tray of paint on him."

"Why?" Catherine laughed.

"Revenge.", Sara replied before walking into the kitchen with the pizza.

Brass nearly doubled over with laughter as the sight of a large, sky blue hand print came into view on the seat of her sweats. Wow. He had to give his longtime friend credit. Ever since he had taken his head out of his ass about Sara, Grissom had been much more relaxed. He didn't want to dwell on the exact reasons why (Sara was like a daughter to him, after all…) but he was grateful for them.

"You guys go ahead and eat. I'm gonna make sure he hasn't drowned…and change my pants."

The place looked good. It was amazing what a few coats of paint and a woman could do to a sterile shell. He heard a soft thud and Sara's laughter from the bedroom and Catherine gave him a knowing look over her slice of pizza.

"They wouldn't! Would they?"

"I dunno, Jim. All those years of tension…" she trailed off suggestively.

"They would not be doing…that…while we're here!"

Grissom came into the living room and not only was he in jeans and a t-shirt but he was barefoot.

"Don't worry, Jim. We've gotten through the Exhibitionism phase." he greeted as he pulled out the Tabasco and a Tupperware container from the refrigerator.

"You guys had an exhibitionism phase? No, wait! I don't wanna know! No, I don't…" Jim cut off, much to Catherine's cackling amusement.

Grissom chuckled and passed Sara a paper plate of pizza. She opened the container and put what looked like dried herbs on top of the cheese and copious amounts of Tabasco.

"What is that?"

"Grasshopper legs. They're good in eggs, too." Sara replied cheerfully before taking a big crunchy bite of her slice, much to Grissom's smiling delight.

Oh, yeah. They definitely deserved each other.

**FIN.**


End file.
